


The Iacon 5000

by InuShiek



Category: MTMTE - Fandom, Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Gags, Humiliation, M/M, NSFW, Pet Play, Predicament Bondage, Slash, Spanking, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus had warned Megatron that biting was frowned upon. Too bad Megatron is too stubborn to heed the Prime's warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Iacon 5000

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ask-box style for [sharkfat](http://sharkfat.tumblr.com/post/97491636547/1-of-5-you-did-this-to-yourself-rodimus-says) and now I've cleaned it up, tweaked it, and added spacing. woooo
> 
> And she asked for "Roddy/Mag" and I misread it as "Roddy/MEG" and I was like 'IN THAT ORDER?????" and she said yes, and I was half way writing before I realized my mistake, but she said she loved Roddy and Megatron too, so I went with it

"You did this to yourself," Rodimus says, slapping the mech's aft once more for good measure.

Megatron growls, engine revving angrily as he shifts in his bindings. The Prime had shackled his wrists to the floor before tying his calves to his thighs, effectively hobbling the mech. Well, it had been mildly effective until Rodimus had produced "stasis gloves" that rendered his servos useless for anything more than supporting his weight on the floor. He really had been given plenty of warning, he just hadn't thought the Prime would go through with it. If he were honest with himself, Megatron hadn't really expected Rodimus Prime to be dominant when it came to interfacing, but their first impromptu frag had proven him wrong. It intrigued the former warlord how Rodimus could strike and order him around while still having a tinge of apprehension in his EM field that first time.

Because of that initial trace of uncertainty, Megatron had taken to pushing the Prime to see just what he could get away with and how far the little mech would go as their sporadic fragging turned into more serious play.

Rodimus had given him a smack across the faceplates the last six times Megatron had nipped at the Prime out of frustration or boredom, but he’d continued disobeying the Prime even as the strikes had grown from a gentle, reminding pat to a stinging slap.

“Open,” Rodimus orders now, holding the mech’s bowl in front of his face. Megatron obeys, biting down on the rim of his bowl and holding it when the Prime gives him a brief pat on the helm. “Hold it until I say so and I’ll finger you while you drink your energon,” he says, a smile forming on his face. “Drop it, and I’ll spank you instead.”

The former Decepticon relaxes, confident that he can hold the bowl as long as the Prime wishes. The bowl is made of a thin metal and is not heavy. That is, he was confident until Rodimus tilts his helm so that the bowl is level and pours energon into it. Grunting, the gray mech clenches his jaw to hold the increased weight. Megatron watches Rodimus nod before seating himself at his desk and pretending to do work. He frowns around the bowl, his neck already straining at the awkward angle.

After racing the first lap of the Iacon 5000’s 500 mile track on his data pad, Rodimus glances over at Megatron. “Who’s a good bot?” he coos, hearing the gray mech’s vents gradually increasing in volume as his frame heats with the strain of holding the position for so long.

Megatron snarls in response out of simple, defiant habit. In truth, the cables in his neck and back are burning, and he isn't sure how much longer he can last before he begins to tremble.

“Still haven’t learned your lesson? I’ve got 49 more laps. Take your time,” the Prime tuts, propping his pedes up on his desk and resuming his game.

The bound mech groans now, realizing his mistake as his jaw cramps with the strain. He briefly considers outright asking Rodimus to come give him some relief, but immediately dismisses the idea. Speaking would earn him more punishment even if it didn't cause him to drop the bowl. Which, judging by the way the Prime’s thighs are rubbing together, would include Rodimus standing over his bowl and letting his valve drip into the energon Megatron would be drinking, and scrap if being unable to bury his glossa in the lithe mech’s valve while it was so close wouldn’t be punishment in and of itself. The gray mech shifts carefully, trying to both stretch his bound legs and somehow reduce the pressure that his panel is placing on his pressurized spike. 


End file.
